


You Missed Me, Right?

by JodiesRightThumb



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Whump, corona times, sad!Yaz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:40:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23380354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JodiesRightThumb/pseuds/JodiesRightThumb
Summary: Three-chaptered post-series 12 day in the life of a bereft Yazmin Khan who thinks 13 is dead. But she hears a familiar voice coming from her wardrobe...could it be?
Relationships: Thasmin - Relationship
Comments: 11
Kudos: 44





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on Twitter @JerdehS

Lifting her grief-laden body up and out of bed, Yaz walked to her closet and opened its singular door, making a familiar creak as it did so. Fighting back the urge to burst into tears once more, she looked upon her disordered wardrobe. Shoes lay scattered and unpaired on the wardrobe floor; one wayward trainer having found its way into the wicker basket within which she kept her underwear and from which she grabbed a pair of socks, pants, and an old white bra that was browning around the edges. She had far nicer ones, picked out by the Doctor shortly after their first visit to the charity shop. Yaz had prompted the Doctor to buy a couple for herself and they’d spent an awkward few hours in the changing rooms while Yaz had tried to instruct the Doctor how to put them on, shouting over the partitions between their respective cubicles. Yaz slipped into The Doctor's cubicle after being assured the timelord's bra had been correctly affixed, only for her to find that the Doctor had not only tried to fasten it upside-down but she had widened the shoulder bands to their loosest length and slipped her legs through them instead. Yaz collapsed to the floor in a crippling laughter, The Doctor complaining “It won’t reach, Yaz”, fascinated as to what was so funny. Yaz composed herself and eventually demonstrated over her vest top how to do it correctly. The bras Yaz had left the shop with didn’t necessarily match her style but were ones she felt the Doctor would approve of, given the timelord’s own hilarious inability to dress herself properly and Yaz’s instantaneous desire to impress this mad and intriguing woman who quite literally fell into her life. 

Reaching into the wardrobe, Yaz rifled through some shirts that had fallen off the rail, suspiciously studying a few to decide whether they were clean enough to wear that day. She carelessly threw several that she deemed in need of a wash behind her, each one landing softly on the end of her bed. She’d sort them properly and wash them later; for now, she was running late. She found one of several black t-shirts and a pair of leggings to match, the usual attire she would leave the house wearing on a work day, her full police uniform lying pressed and ironed in her locker at the station. 

Yaz showered, letting the downpour wash away an exhausting night’s depression, desperately holding onto the possibility that the dawn of a new day could invite a universe of possibilities, something the Doctor had always insisted on and that Yaz had trusted since the day they’d met, but something that was fading as every new day began without the Doctor in it. She remembered emerging into the dim console room on one very early morning that felt like a lifetime ago. The night before, they’d come to a stop on a planet where a bright sun would burn in the night, to be replaced by a blue moon whose rays shone a rainbow at dawn. Yaz shuffled into the room in her pyjamas, vision still blurry with sleep, eyes immediately seeking out The Doctor who was transfixed on the console screen. She was never this quiet. Her usual bouncing around the console and tangent-filled ramblings had been replaced by a warm grin flashed at Yaz, accentuating hazel eyes that were electric with excitement. She silently walked up to Yaz, gently taking her hand, leading her to the Tardis doors. The Doctor grabbed the latch and turned to Yaz with an expression that said “ready?” and Yaz smiled. The Doctor turned the latch and both doors effortlessly swung open. A brilliant rainbow lit up the Tardis entrance. The Doctor moved to stand behind Yaz, wrapping her bare arms around her middle and resting her head lovingly on her shoulder, holding her in a swaying embrace, her longish blonde hair gently tickling Yaz’s exposed neck. Yaz placed her arms over the Doctor’s, eyes widening as she took in the sight. An array of colours hued the air, ascending from the blue moon in all directions; not an inch of land or air was left naked. Some colours Yaz had never seen before. The Doctor tilted her head slightly so it was buried into Yaz’s neck. “D’ya see that Yaz?” she hummed softly.

“Yeah,” Yaz said, absolutely stunned by the dawn. Then she wondered, “where does all that come from? Y’know, on such a sad moon?”

“From a place called hope, Yazmin Khan,” said The Doctor.

Yaz felt a tear slide down from her closed eyes, joining the downpour of the shower and decided she’d spent too long in here already, leaving her little time to dress, eat, and leave.

******************

It was uncharacteristically hot for March. She expected she’d need to disperse quite a few barbecues today on the common; a task that had fallen to her and her partner the day before. “But it’s well nice out” was always the defence. She knew this and she herself wanted nothing more than to strip to her vest and shorts as she had done in summers gone by, spreading out the Doctor’s long silky coat on the grass and curling up into the timelord’s chest in a doze, with her resting her lips softly on Yaz’s forehead. Because this would never happen again, Yaz felt a certain justice when she approached a gathering and sternly told them to pack up and go home. 

Arriving in the locker room at the station, Yaz saw her partner pulling on his boots. 

“Y’alright, Yaz?” he asked, knowing the answer from her tense expression anyway. He often wondered what had happened to make the once cheery, optimistic, and sweet-hearted Yaz suddenly turn and become sulky, indignant, and deeply sad. 

“Hiya mate,” she said, forcing a smile. 

She silently took from her locker her uniform and started pulling it on over her underclothes. She pushed her jet-black ringlets up into a messy bun, avoiding looking at her sunken eyes in the locker mirror. 

Upon leaving the station, they picked up their bikes from the shed and began cycling their normal round-trip route. Yaz didn’t miss being inside the sweaty car and was grateful they’d been switched to cycling patrol; having the soft wind breeze past her ears felt like flying. After ten minutes of riding in silence, her partner suggested over their two-metre gap, “Let’s play a game. First one to spot a gathering gets to ask the other for a ‘truth’. Like truth or dare!” That should hopefully get Yaz to speak up, if nothing else, he thought. 

Yaz made an uncertain sigh. She had had partners in the past who were loud, obnoxious, and bossy; never letting her thrive where she wanted to and always stepping in where she knew she could handle a case. Her current partner was different: always gentle, conversational, but never probing yet still she wondered whether she had the energy to take up this invitation. The only place she wanted to be at the end of a long day now was back in bed, alone and silently mourning her person who no one else here knew existed. That’s the tragedy of it. She wanted so badly to tell her partner of The Doctor, and her insatiable excitement, endless sense of wonder, a soul so big and beautiful it could consume you in a second. She also wanted to rage, shout and scream out her anger and disappointment. She’d pushed Ryan and Graham to the edge with her persistent calls and her early days of “But she might be ok.” She had sat inside the second Tardis for days after they’d landed, sobbing uncontrollably. Graham had held her as she did so, but eventually he came less and less, instead encouraging her to forget the Tardis and move on because “That’s what the Doc would have wanted.” She had left eventually, and upon coming back for a final time, she’d found the Tardis had dematerialised; perhaps sensing its job was done. That hurt her more; knowing now there was no way back. She resented Graham and Ryan for letting it happen and seldom spoke to them. 

Yaz’s heart ached. She could tell what he was trying to do and she appreciated it. If there was anyone left to open up to, it would be him. 

“Ok,” replied Yaz. 

“Great, game’s on,” said her partner. 

They cycled some more, not coming across much in the way of illegal barbecues. They spotted some colleagues on vehicle patrol, setting up checkpoints where they intended to pull over non-essential travellers. Yaz and her partner rang their bells in greeting as they whizzed past, their colleagues waving over and smiling in acknowledgment. 

Speeding up past the Heritage Parks, Yaz, cycling a little way behind her partner, shouted up “Hang on!”

Yaz squeezed her brakes, coming to a smooth stop and her partner pulled back to come to a stop beside her, resting his toes on the ground. A satisfied smile began to form on Yaz’s face; “can you smell that?” she asked. 

Her partner stuck his nose in the air, deeply sniffing around when he got a hint of what she meant. It was a barbecue. He saw the expression of familiarity come over Yaz’s face and she shot off ahead of him to double back around towards the park. He took a few seconds too long to scramble back onto his peddles and chase her, her giggling as she cycled and maintained at least one hundred metres ahead of him. Following the smell, she focused on its source and rode clear through the park’s wide iron gates. Grass, trees, and bushes whizzed by in a green and brown haze, the smell getting ever stronger. Yaz took a glance behind her and her partner was gaining on her but she still had a mean head start. Soon, a cacophony of voices and laughing came into earshot and then an incredible sight met her; at least twenty teenagers were sat gathered around a massive brick fire in the middle of the common. One girl was poking some grilling meat, and checking on some sides that were cooking a few metres beside that. The rest of the guests circled them in a wide gathering. No wonder Yaz and her partner had smelled it from the at least quarter of a mile they were moments ago. She braked and dismounted, breathing heavily. The cycle-sprint had cleared her mind and now she just focused on dissipating the burning in her chest. Her partner had pulled up his bike beside hers, that she rested against an iron fence and they looked upon the gathering in disbelief.   
“Bloody hell, Yaz, check that out!” he said.

“I know!” she said, catching her breath. “That beats yesterday’s by fifteen people!” 

“Time to spoil the fun,” her partner said, winking at her. 

They strode towards the gathering and the smells of grilling meat and burning arose. 

“Hey!” shouted Yaz, over the noise. 

No one seemed to register the police presence and the group continued as they were. 

“RIGHT!!” screamed her partner. This got their attention. The chatting abruptly came to a stop. “I imagine you’re all aware of the new rules about gathering?” 

The barbecuer moved through the circle towards Yaz, while the rest of the crowd guiltily looked on. “But it’s well nice out,” she said. 

“Yeah, well it won’t be when you’re coughing up a lung, will it?” countered Yaz, irritated. Indeed only just out of her teens herself, she hated smart-arses all the same. 

“If we could ask you all to pick up your belongings and move on, please,” said her partner to a resounding groan from the crowd, who had begun to disband anyway, sensing that that would be the only conclusion to this run-in. He picked up a large five-litre bottle of water that was resting amongst the other foodstuffs and dumped the lot on the raging flame, extinguishing it in an instant. He and Yaz stood around for another twenty minutes while the remaining few people who had initially stubbornly refused to leave had finally given in and slowly meandered away. 

“So…” said Yaz, suggestively. 

Her partner feigned ignorance. 

“I totally saw it first!” she said, playfully slapping his upper arm. “So, I get a truth.” 

“I let you have it. Obviously, I’d smelled it first. Aright, we’ll do it on the way to lunch. I’m going back to the station for it,” he said. 

“I might as well an’ all. It’s not like we can go anywhere else,” Yaz added. 

They cycled back much slower, taking their time in the warm afternoon sun. 

Thinking of a truth to ask her partner, Yaz glanced around the near-empty streets as they cycled through them. A few elderly folks pottered around, a few mothers with pushchairs. Suddenly Yaz’s heart flew into her throat as she saw a blur of blonde fly into her field of vision. 

“Doctor!” she instinctively yelled, braking hard. Shaking, she slowly turned around, seeing a blonde woman taking earphones out from under shoulder-length blonde hair. 

“Oh! I- I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking,” said the woman, panicking at seeing Yaz and her partner in police gear. 

Yaz suddenly felt very exposed, heat rising in her face. Her partner gave her a concerned look, the woman across from her still waiting for retribution. Yaz studied the woman in front of her, clearly too tall and lanky to be the Doctor. She blinked her fear and sadness rapidly out of her burning eyes so she wouldn’t embarrass herself further. 

“I’m sorry, it’s ok,” she said. Her mouth hung open a moment too long, eyes still wide. 

“Stay safe,” her partner added and the woman skulked away. 

What just happened? 

Her partner dismounted his bike and stood beside a petrified Yaz, offering a friendly arm around her shoulders. “Yaz, it’s ok! That woman was stupid for not looking. 

You just missed her, it’s all gonna be fine.” 

Yaz stared at the ground, gently closed her eyes and replayed the past minute or so in her head. Why did she scream the Doctor’s name? Why would she? She knew the Doctor couldn’t be here. There’s no way…


	2. You Missed Me, Right?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER TWO of corona times, sad!Yaz thinks the Doctor's dead. But she hears a familiar voice coming from her wardrobe...could it be?

Back at the station for their meal break, Yaz and her partner sat at the corner table in the lunchroom, a few other officers bustling around them; some getting up from lunch ready to go back out, others stood chatting near the vending machine. Yaz’s partner had made her sit while he went and made her a hot sweet tea, having had to walk her back slowly from the scene of the near-miss, her only being aware enough to put one foot in front of the other and not let her bike fall to the ground as she mindlessly pushed it along. She took another small sip from her mug, letting the tea slide behind the thick lump still in her throat, too upset to talk. Her partner studied her. 

“What’s going on Yaz?” he asked, reaching across the table to hold her clenched hand. She loosened it to let him; the most she’d moved for the ten or so minutes they’d been sat there. “This isn’t just about that woman earlier, is it? I can tell something happened before today. Months ago. You haven’t been right for ages.”

Yaz stared into her mug. “Can I –“ She hesitated, gulping down the lump as her eyes welled up, a tear falling from her wide eyes. She wiped it across her cheek, brushing the back of her hand back and under the other eye. “Can I trade you my truth?” 

Her partner nodded sympathetically. “’’course you can.”

Yaz took a deep breath in. “I lost someone.” 

She felt her partner’s hand squeeze around hers as more tears fell. This time she let them. 

“She was the best person I’d ever met,” said Yaz through a sob, “and she…I…I let her go. I told her every single day that I love her and I do! I did. But I let her go. And she died.”

As confused as he was, her partner stroked his thumb over her knuckles. By now, the room had emptied and it was just him and her. “What was she like?” he asked.  
Yaz looked up from her mug with glistening eyes, a smile creeping across her face. “She was hilarious. Had me in stitches all day, she did.” 

Yaz’s smile sunk down again and her eyes slowly moved back down to her mug. “She used to do the maddest stuff. She ate soil once and I honestly thought I’d die from how funny it was. She was so optimistic, too. We used to get ourselves into some pretty…tricky…situations and no matter how bad it looked she would always fix it. I never got scared that we wouldn’t get out safe.” 

Her partner tried to keep his eyebrows from furrowing as he tried to figure out what situations Yaz could possibly be talking about. She moved her head to look up past her partner’s shoulders, searching for the right words. 

“But she was so much more than that,” Yaz continued. “Behind those old eyes was love, hope, compassion. She always did what was right, not what was easy. In her eyes lived a light that burned brighter than any flame and longer than any fire and it burned through time and through war and through wind and through night and…and led the way to the morning.” 

Yaz’s own brow contorted with disbelief. Tears welled up once more and she struggled to speak. “How could I have allowed it so easily? I didn’t even try to stop her turning that corner. The look –“ she choked on another lump growing in her throat. “The look she gave me as she was leaving. It’s like she wanted me to try harder, because believe me when I tell you; she was the universe.”

She slipped her hand out from under her partner’s and brought both hands up, resting her face in them and rubbing her eyes red. She kept her hands there, separating her fingers out and holding her head. “I can’t carry on like this, mate,” she said, thinking of all the times, as recently as the night before, where she’d silently sobbed herself into an uneasy sleep. She wakes up now and instead of staring blissfully into the timelord’s eyes, she stares wistfully at the empty side of her large bed, running her hand slowly over the plump pillows where the Doctor’s head had laid on that fateful day they’d left Earth together for the last time. 

“I’m so sorry, Yaz,” said her partner, having looked upon her all this time as she struggled to convey her torture. “That sounds…impossible. To live every day, to come to work every day, to even smile again…I’m speechless.” 

Yaz shuffled in her seat. “I don’t want your sympathy, mate; it was all my fault and there’s nothing I can do to change it. I can’t go back. I could’ve gone back, there was a Tardis…I could’ve tried to do something…”

Losing track of what she was saying again, he glanced down at his watch. “Look, we’ve got five minutes more before we’re due back out again. You’ve done amazing to get this far but don’t upset yourself more. You’re an incredible person, Yaz, and whatever it is you think you’ve done, I’m sure your friend would disagree. She wouldn’t have left you, not like this; not if she had a choice.” 

He stood up, collecting empty wrappers and mugs off the table and bringing them to the work station. Yaz took a deep breath, holding it steady as if it would be her last. She let her arms drop as she exhaled. She too stood up and walked towards the door, pushing it open as her partner followed her through, the two of them walking down the stairs to the bike shed in the basement in silence. 

The rest of the afternoon passed uneventfully, no gatherings to spot and few cars on the roads. They cycled through Sheffield city centre and were met with shutters down on all the shops, a few pigeons flapping around and paddling in the large fountain that stood proudly in the middle of the concourse. Yaz’s head still felt heavy with sadness, and her body ached to be back in bed. When they were finally stood down and headed back to the station, her exhaustion was unbearable. They locked their bikes back up in the shed and made their way back to the locker rooms. Yaz weightily plonked herself down on a bench and began to undo her boots. Her partner stood at his locker taking off his chunky utility vest. He turned to Yaz: 

“Come and have a beer with me tonight, Yaz. I’ve done the patio up nice since you were over last and I’ve wanted to show it to someone for ages. Hmm?”   
Yaz, having kicked off her boots and lifted off her own utility vest, leaned back against the partition between her bench and the ones behind and stretched her legs out in front of her, sighing. 

“Okay, mate. Just a couple. As much as I’d love to get wasted and forget about the world for a while, I’ve got one more shift tomorrow before I’ve got holiday days to use up. I’ve gotta go home first and shower though; I stink,” she said, subtly sniffing under her arm and recoiling at the hot stench that came off her.   
“Alright, well it’s seven now. Just come over when you’re ready and I’ll crack open some cold ones and we can have a nice chat. I’d love to know more about your friend?”

It did admittedly feel good to finally tell someone about The Doctor, the guilt having weighed more on Yaz than the crushing despair of having lost her. “I’d like that a lot,” she said as she packed away her remaining things in her locker and collected her rucksack. She slipped it over her shoulder. “See you later then,” she said to her partner as she left the locker room. 

Mercifully, she only lived ten minutes’ walk from the station and took a solemn stroll home. She thought about the days’ events, unable to shake the blonde runner from her mind. That hurt. Shouting for the Doctor like that. “Stupid Yaz. She’s just gone, there’s nothing more to it,” she thought. “and I’d die too if it meant we could be together again but does your soul even have time to leave your body before you fucking blow it up?”

Putting the key in the door, Yaz walked through her flat to the windows, opening them up to let some cool air in; as much cool air as there could be on such a humid evening. She dumped her bag on the sofa and flopped herself into the soft cushions, kicking off her shoes. I could just stay right here, she thought. 

She laid in the silence of the flat. Not a hum or a tick came from anywhere. Just Yaz’s soft and steady breathing filled the air. Balancing skilfully between sleep and consciousness lest she fall into an irretrievable slumber until morning, Yaz enjoyed the calm. She didn’t want to but she used this time to let in all her memories of the Doctor, as much as they upset her. Remembering the Doctor how she was is the least Yaz could do. She thought about the raggedy and scorched suit the Doctor was wearing the day they met, how it hung off her limbs and made her look tiny. How she’d jumped so fearlessly between those two cranes, a fearlessness that Yaz had fallen for so hard and fast. She thought about the time the Doctor got chained up and submerged under a black lake yet without a care that she could have drowned. She must have known she’d get out alive. Seeing her emerge back up the shore mere moments after being dunked made Yaz’s heart soar for this invincible woman. This is what made this whole mess so painful; she was the Doctor. If nothing else, she lived. 

Yaz leaned into these memories, letting them envelope her. “I really miss you, you know?” she whispered into the cushions, tears building up behind her closed eyes. “If I could just have you back here, for one more night. Just one more night with me…you can talk all the tech babble you like and I won’t tell you to shut up, it’ll be like music to my ears.” 

A familiar voice coming from deep inside Yaz’s memory rose up and out, filling the silence as if it were coming from within the room itself. “The Tardis detected a psychological upsurge in signals from somewhere in space and time.” Yaz chuckled to herself at this, picturing the Doctor come alive and shoot around the Tardis console, flicking switches, pulling levers, grabbing onto the corners of the console to keep her balance as she was flung around. The day she forgot that sweet voice would be the day she gives up entirely. Although it wasn’t her, Yaz took comfort in her mental ability to reconstruct these ramblings but as with any memory, these too slip away too soon. Like a dream, you try and hold onto them but they distort, losing proportion, slipping from the mind into nothing…

“Before I lost my Tardis, anyway. Well, ‘lost’ is a bit blameless, I was actually teleported right out which was incredibly disruptive to my day because what I actually wanted to do had taken quite a bit of planning but basically, I think somebody, somewhere might be a little bit worried.” 

Yaz’s eyes flicked open. She pushed herself up from the sofa and rested on her elbows, every hair standing pricked in alarm. Petrified, she waited. She’d surely been dreaming, fallen into a heavy sleep. She must have done. That was the Doctor’s voice, without question. Yaz checked her phone; the screen read ‘19.26’. “Not long enough,” she thought, “I’ve only been back for fifteen – “ 

“I'm actually just self-isolating, myself, or as I like to call it hiding.” 

Her voice again. What was going on? Gripped by uncertainty, tortured by this cruel trick, fear making her body feel both rigid and jelly-like simultaneously, Yaz got up off the sofa and stood frozen in the middle of her living room floor. Facing her on the right was a door leading to her bedroom, and to her left the door to the bathroom. She stood with bated breath. 

“Now! Here's what I do in any worrying situation…” 

Yaz put one foot in front of the other, tentatively following the voice.

“One, remember; you'll get through this, and things will be alright even if they look uncertain.”

Yaz grabbed the knob on her bedroom door, painstakingly twisting it so it didn’t make a noise, gently pushing on the door. She left only a crack of the door open and took a peek inside her room. It was exactly as she’d left it that morning; the bed unmade, the shirts flung carelessly over it. She must be going mad. There was no one there. 

“Even if you're worried, darkness never prevails.” 

Yaz’s heart leapt into her throat. The voice sounded clearer than ever. She shuffled into the room, blinded by a haze of confusion. Her legs gave way and, dropping to her knees, she crawled over to the bed, checking under it. She leant back up onto her heels and scanned the rest of the room. 

“Two. Tell jokes. Even bad ones. Especially bad ones. I am brilliant at bad ones.”

Yaz rose. She felt as though she was going to faint, her heart ripping at the walls of her chest, pulsating impossibly fast. She stumbled towards the wardrobe, the one she’d stared into that very morning and the one from which she was now convinced…

She reached a hand out. It felt like she was pulling it through treacle, dragging up and reaching for the wardrobe handle. She gripped it tight and opened the door.


	3. You Missed Me, Right?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After opening the wardrobe door, Yaz has faces a surprise

Seeing what faced her in the wardrobe, Yaz let out a strangled sob and collapsed once more to the ground. The blonde woman, standing sideways in the wardrobe, hunched under the empty rail, eyes wide in astonishment that had turned to face the intrusion, slowly sunk to her knees on the wardrobe floor, quietly gasping. Yaz, hyperventilating through sobs, squeezed her eyes shut and kept her head firmly bowed, hands pawing into the carpet as if she were trying to rip it up. The blonde woman leaned closer to the open door and lifted up the palm of her hand so it was parallel with the door frame. Hand slightly shaking, she stretched it tentatively forward, as if expecting a force field to block her way. As her palm freely passed the frame and beyond, she half fell out of the wardrobe, reaching out her other arm to the carpet to retain her balance. She patted the carpet, smoothing it over, observing her hand making the movement. Now on all fours, legs and hips in the wardrobe still, her face was mere inches away from Yaz’s bowed head, whose hysterical sobs echoed through the silent flat. Having heard the shuffling and tumble as the woman’s boots had knocked against the back of the wardrobe, Yaz composed herself enough to shout, “Don’t move!” 

The woman’s first instinct was to hold her breath. 

“Don’t move…” whispered Yaz, eyes still firmly shut and pointed to the floor. She shook her head violently from side to side, shaking out the image of the blonde woman in the wardrobe, shaking out the Doctor’s voice from her head. “Please? Just don’t do this to me…just don’t come any closer.” 

The woman let out a steady breath, the gap between herself and Yaz small enough that it blew gently over the crown of her head, blowing around some wayward wisps of hair that had since come undone from her bun. 

“Yaz…”

“Don’t you dare!” 

The blonde woman pulled her lips into her mouth. 

Breathing shallow and quick, Yaz tried to control it. Drawing in a breath long and slow, and releasing it, Yaz’s whole body shook with effort. 

“Who are…no, don’t. How…but you’re not…you can’t be. I know what I saw but it can’t be. Just stay still.” 

Yaz lifted a clenched fist and, relaxing it, stretched out her fingers through the space, sensing this being was not too far in front of her. Her fingertips made contact with a silky material moments later. Her breath hitched. She allowed more of her hand to caress the material, the blonde woman following with her eyes. Yaz curved her hand over the woman’s shoulder. She squeezed gently. Unclenching her eyelids, she let them fall open. Eyes swollen and burning, her vision was greatly impeded and blurry. Still, she did not look up. Keeping her hand on the shoulder, Yaz lifted her hips only slightly so she was more perpendicular with the floor. She shuffled her knees forward, mere millimetres at a time. Now at the same level, the women’s foreheads met. Yaz could feel longish hair tickle her cheek. In her eye-line too were long blue sleeves, pale hands at the ends. 

Yaz inched her body closer, rising her knees further up, her forehead still resting against the blonde woman’s. The blonde woman mirrored Yaz’s movements. 

Bodies now flush and vertical against each other, the hazel eyes Yaz was now staring directly into, the hazel eyes that were themselves glassy, resisting tearfall, these hazel eyes - they were the Doctor’s. 

Yaz’s own eyes glistening with grief, the Doctor lifted a thumb and brushed away a fresh tear from underneath one. She moved her hand around the back of Yaz’s head and brought the other one to do the same. Cradling Yaz’s head she gently separated their foreheads so she could get a look at the tortured girl in front of her.

“Hello, Yazmin Khan.” The Doctor whispered. 

“Doctor…”

“Yeah. It’s me, Yaz. My Yaz…” she said, stroking beneath Yaz’s ears. 

“How are you here? I can feel you. All of you. You feel so real.” 

“I am real, Yaz. I think I am anyway. But there’s something I have to say…” 

Yaz searched the Doctor’s face. 

“What you doin’ ‘ere, Yaz?” 

“I…what?” Yaz said, quizzically. 

“I mean, how did you find me? It must be hours since I landed and I couldn’t find a way out –“ 

“Doctor…I live here.” 

The Doctor’s face lit up. “Do you?! Have you moved?” 

Yaz placed her hands over the Doctor’s, leaning into her touch. She pulled the Doctor’s hands away from her face, holding them tenderly. Chuckling, she said “look around, Doctor. Where did you think you were?” 

Climbing fully out of the wardrobe, the Doctor stood up. She scanned the room as if she were on alien terrain. She leaped to the window, her coat flying out behind her, brushing past a bemused Yaz’s face. “This is your street,” said The Doctor. 

“Yes.” 

The Doctor turned back around, eyes flitting between Yaz kneeling on the floor and the open wardrobe door. She pointed, “and that’s…your wardrobe.” 

“Yes,” said Yaz. 

The Doctor walked back to it, stepping inside, drumming up and down on all its sides with her fists, stomping on its floor. She grabbed the door and closed it on herself. “How did you open it, Yaz?” 

“Well, I just did.” 

The Doctor took two fingers and nudged the door. It swung back open to reveal the Doctor stood still with her lips pursed, brow furrowed. 

“How did you get in there in the first place?” 

“Vortex manipulator. Cheap and-“

“nasty, I know.” Yaz’s amused smile sunk. “But it still doesn’t explain why you’re in my wardrobe, Doctor. Months I’ve thought you were…after everything with the Master…” She sighed heavily; “I thought you were dead.” 

“I know,” said the Doctor, solemnly. She reached a hand out, inviting Yaz to take it. Yaz accepted and the Doctor pulled her into the wardrobe. She sat down against the back of it, feet sticking out and Yaz copied her. The Doctor continued to grip Yaz’s hand and placed her other one over the top. Yaz rested her head against the back of the wardrobe and sighed once more. The Doctor turned her head to face hers. 

“I thought I was dead, too. If that look you gave me the last time we saw each other wasn’t enough to kill me already, I was prepared to end it all. But once again, someone came to my rescue. And I let him. Yaz, I feel such a coward. Trust me when I say I have had plenty of time and plenty of space to reflect on that and I still haven’t forgiven myself. If only you knew what it was like, to promise to yourself time and time again that just once you would do the right thing and put yourself in the place of someone who deserved to live, try to stop them at least…” 

Yaz shuffled closer and rested her head on the Doctor’s shoulder. “It’s ok, Doctor…So you made it back to the Tardis alive?” 

The Doctor leant her head into Yaz’s. “I did.”

Yaz sniffled, “and you didn’t come back?” 

“You’re better of without me, Yaz. Without some silly coward. I was ashamed to come back,” hushed the Doctor. “BUT!” she suddenly came alive. “You’ll never guess what happened next. I was teleported right out of my Tardis. OH! I’ve lost my Tardis…AGAIN. Anyway, it was a Judoon platoon and they brought me to their saloon and locked me in a room.” 

“They never?” 

“Months, Yaz. I was in there months. Years, probably. I looked out the window so often, I recognised the galaxy we were in. We spent a while orbiting this one planet – Makhtoon – oh, you’d love it, Yaz. I’ve been there loads. It’s a planet made of meadows, where the flowers grow to ten-foot tall and blossom all year round. In stormy weather, they swirl into a patterned tornado. Their months last years and years…”  
“So let me get this straight,” said Yaz. “You were transported out of your Tardis by a Judoon platoon who brought you to their saloon that was orbiting Makhtoon?” 

The Doctor placed a hand under Yaz’s chin and lifted her head. Yaz looked up into the Doctor’s eyes, still not quite believing she was right here! The Doctor’s placed her hand on the back of Yaz’s neck. She leaned in and they met in a soft kiss. The Doctor parted her lips, dancing with Yaz’s as she effortlessly took the lead. It was as if they’d never said goodbye. Pulling away gently, the Doctor said, “Yes. THEN, Yazmin Khan, having spent all that time in that cell – which, by the way, was not the worst cell I’ve been in – I was once again back at the same wall I’d been chippin’ away at all that time and the cell lit up with this bright light, followed by a zapping so I turn around and who’s stood there but Captain Jack Harkness.” 

“NO!” 

“Yeah. I gave him a right bollockin’ for using that vortex manipulator but then he shut me right up with one of these,” and she kissed Yaz deeply again, “ and as he pulled away, he said he knew it was me because every woman he's kissed in his life ends up on the floor with him but I 'felt different' apparently. So, that over, he says he’d been waiting for me so he could warn me himself about the lone cyberman.”

“Bit late for that, isn’t he(?)” said Yaz. 

“Much too late, Yaz, but he decided that if I wasn’t gonna go to him, he was gonna come to me. He’d synched his manipulator to the Tardis environment so it would lead him to me. When I was transported out, I’d left an energy trail linking me to the Tardis and the Tardis to Jack.” 

“So how did you end up here?” 

“Well, he said he had unfinished business on the Judoon prison ship but he wouldn’t tell me what. Maybe he knew I’d have a go at him for it, whatever it was. He gave me this though,” she said, pulling out of her breast pocket an old vortex manipulator, “and he said it’d ping me straight back to the Tardis. Of course, I jumped at the chance.” 

“Wait, you left him there? That doesn’t sound like you,” said Yaz. 

“He’s a big boy, he can look after himself. Besides, I needed you,” she said, resting her forehead against Yaz’s. “Can’t be a universe without Yaz, can there?” she whispered. “But he did warn me about something worse than the lone cyberman. He said there was a global pandemic on Earth. He said it was serious, that it’s struck almost every country at an alarming rate.” 

“Coronavirus! He knows about that?” 

“Yes, and he also knows it was no accident. It was planted here on purpose. Whoever did it knew the human race were potentially ill-equipped to deal with such a fallout. So my plan was to get back to the Tardis, cook up a quick cure, and saturate the Earth’s atmosphere with it.” 

“You could do that?” asked Yaz. 

“You bet I could! I’ve made it once before! By accident but it tasted so much like an antidote. There’s no way for sure of knowing whether it worked though…have you had the virus yet, Yaz?” 

“No. I don’t think so.” 

“Have Graham or Ryan?”

Yaz felt a pang of guilt. “I don’t know. It’s been a while since I spoke to them. It got a bit awkward. We just didn’t know if you were gonna come back.” 

“Well, do you remember that iced tea I made?” 

“Doctor!” exclaimed Yaz, astonished. 

“I don’t think I can replicate it exactly but I’ve got all the key ingredients. Anyway, I put the manipulator on, said goodbye to Jack and braced myself. Even after all this time, these things do me in. I teleported and landed right where we’re sat and I couldn’t get out until you came for me; my Yaz in shining armour.” 

“Doctor, it’s a wardrobe. You didn’t think to try the door?”

The Doctor stared at her blankly. 

“Anyway, I don’t know how long I was actually in here for,” said the Doctor. “BUT I also have this,” and she reached into her pocket once more to bring out an iPhone. “With some sonic-ing, I could get this to send out an emergency transmission to every TV, radio, and computer on Earth. A message of hope. Once I get my Tardis back, this Earth will be saved. I was hoping you’d have the telly on at least because really it was directed more at you than anyone else.”

“Don’t worry, Doctor; I heard you,” said Yaz, laying her head down into the Doctor’s lap. “You must have got here after I left for work, though, because I was in here this morning looking for a…” Yaz looked around the wardrobe floor and up at the rail. “Doctor…” 

“Hmm?” 

“Where are my clothes?” 

The Doctor bit her bottom lip, and scronched. “Errr, were there clothes in here before?” 

“Yes!” 

“Well, probably because the polarity had been reversed on the vortex manipulator, it would have replaced whatever was in this wardrobe with me. So…they’re most likely on a Judoon prison somewhere, in the exact spot I teleported from…sorreh.”


End file.
